BA's Trilogy - Part 2: Mind over prejudice
by MissEclipse
Summary: Vietnam era. When a mission goes wrong for two members of the A-Team, BA learns not to judge a book by its cover. Reviews most welcome and greatly appreciated. Chapters 4 and 5 now posted.
1. Chapter 1

[_Disclaimer: BA Baracus and Templeton Peck do not belong to me. Some of the plot is based on real-life extracts, which I have adapted for the purposes of this story. This is a further expansion on "Mind over muscle", which I wrote some months back._]

**Chapter 1: Cloudburst**

[_Timeline: Central Highlands, South Vietnam – 1969_]

The dark, threatening scowl, hadn't left BA's face since departing the Nha Trang base camp, two days ago. It was his first assignment since joining Hannibal Smith's A-Team and he had been paired up with the extremely flaky, Lieutenant Templeton Peck.

BA was well aware of the conman's reputation, even though he had only known him for a few weeks. He was the team's Supplies Officer and Hannibal's golden boy. No doubt he had wormed his way into the Colonel's good books by buttering him up with an array of upper-class wit and etiquette, that was completely alien to his black, working-class upbringing.

He was the epitome of everything BA hated about the white man culture. Peck was what he would describe as a "_preppy_" - nothing more than a privately-educated, university pretty boy. He seemed to spend most of his time having a love affair with himself in the mirror and was always correctly suited and booted for every occasion. His "L_et's get high/have sex with a mama-san, pretending it's your girl and hope you don't get the Clap,_" attitude didn't sit well with the God-fearing Sergeant.

BA had spent most of his first couple of weeks being put through his paces by the Colonel, so he hadn't seen the team in full action, first-hand yet. But he had already made up his mind that Peck would be about as much use as a chocolate teapot. No doubt the only hard day's work he had ever done in his life, was playing a few rounds of golf at the Beverly Bay Country Club.

His scowl deepened further as he watched Peck fraternising with the local Montagnard tribesmen. They had been sent to one of the plateaus of the Central Highlands to help build a new fortified camp. Hannibal had figured, with BA's construction skills and Peck's ability to scrounge the much needed materials, they would be of some help to the project.

But as far as BA could see, he was the only one who had got his hands dirty so far! He threw down his tools in a fit of temper and grabbed his rifle and canteen. As he made his way down to the river he was stopped in his tracks by the Lieutenant.

"Where are you off to, Baracus?" he asked, in his smarmy, honeycombed voice.

"Need some water," snarled back BA, raising up his canteen as if by way of clarification.

Peck ran his hand nervously through his immaculately combed blonde hair. It was never a good idea to go wandering too far into the jungle without one of the tribesman. The VC - or another Yard - were far less likely to shoot at you if they saw you were in their company.

"Better take a Yard with you," he replied cautiously. "We don't want Charlie using you as target practice."

"I don't need no protection!" grumbled back BA as he pushed by the lieutenant and made the short trek down to the river.

Peck sighed in resignation as he watched the burly sergeant marching off. He guessed there were enough Yards around to supply adequate cover. Hannibal had told him to keep an eye on BA and make sure he didn't get into too much trouble. As Peck had managed to get himself into quite a few scrapes since he had joined the team, he found this a rather odd request. And he certainly didn't want to be babysitting some over-grown, punch-happy meatloaf!

Still, he didn't question the Colonel's orders. It had taken Peck himself a couple of months to settle down when he first arrived in the Country. But after weeks of humping through leech infested jungles and sliding down monsoon-drenched mountainsides, he had earned his place on the team. His own outlandish behaviour had caused quite a few arched eyebrows to be raised in disapproval. So he guessed he sympathised with the Big Guy somewhat, who like him, always seem to be in trouble!

"_Let that silver tongue of yours work it's magic,_" were the exact words Hannibal had used, obviously hoping that the smooth-talking conman could somehow soften BA's aggressive manner.

Face instinctively took a defensive posture as he watched BA disappear down to the river edge. The mysterious, shallow river flowed gracefully through the towering, heavily forested mountains. Standing on the plateau, with his head almost touching the clouds, he took a moment to reflect how magical and peaceful the jungle could be. It was very easy to forget about the war as you were lulled into the majestic splendour of such a beautiful place. Even the birdsong that echoed around the green, triple-canopy forest added to the enchantment.

Birdsong! The word triggered off alarm bells in Peck's head as he suddenly noticed how quiet it had become. That was when the silence transformed the tranquillity of the jungle into a menacing and dangerous death-trap. Throwing his rucksack on to his back and clutching his rifle to his chest, he furtively made his way down to the river, following in the Sergeant's footsteps.

In the meantime, BA had reached the water's edge. With his rifle flung over his shoulder, he was bending down, carefully filling up his canteen. He wanted to make sure that no leeches were coming along for the ride. He stood up and took a swig of water before placing it back in his pouch.

It was then that the hair on the back of his neck began to stiffen. He suddenly felt like he was being watched. He tasted the aluminium bite of adrenalin at the back of his throat at the same time as an array of bullets rained all around him from the embankment on the other side of the river. He didn't even have time to reach for his rifle as he was hit instantly in the leg, just above the knee and went down with a ground-breaking thud.

A burst of machine-gun fire whistled over his head, this time from behind him. His survival instinct kicked in as he remained perfectly still on the ground, his nose touching the sandbank beneath him.

Another sonic crack of unfriendly bullets from the embankment sent a shower of water from the edge of the river all over him. He felt the rush of blood and panic pounding in his temples as fear gripped his body.

It was then that he heard a voice yelling at him from the slope above. Realising that the fire assault had ceased, he gingerly looked up to find Peck grinning down at him. For a moment, confusion and uncertainty overwhelmed him.

"What da hell ya playin' at Peck!" he screamed at him. "Ya damn well nearly turned me into a water sprinkler!"

Peck burst out laughing at the expression on BA's face, as he calmly lit up a cigarette. After inhaling a deep breath of smoke into his lungs, he pointed across the river to where the remains of a small hut lay in a pile of burning rubble.

As BA followed the Lieutenant's outstretched arm, he immediately understood what he had been firing at. Peck had in fact been covering him the whole time he had been cowering on the ground. He had used his M-16 on the only visible target that he suspected had been hiding the sniper, both of which had now been sufficiently disposed of.

BA cursed under his breath as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. Peck nimbly made his way down the slope towards him. He knew they weren't out of danger yet, as the VC would now have been alerted to their position. The bamboo telegraph would make sure of that. But something else was also bothering him. They had become separated from the rest of the team, who had scattered back into the forest during the Sniper's random shooting spree.

His cigarette now down almost to a stubble between his fingers, Peck threw it into the river. He knelt down next to BA, pulling a bandage out of his rucksack. Snatching a knife from his belt, he deftly used it to rip away the material on the Sergeant's trouser leg. He then skilfully wrapped the bandage round his wound and pulled him quickly to his feet.

"Move it, Baracus!" he hissed in a tense but controlled voice. "Otherwise you might as well say goodbye to your mama right here and now!"

BA gritted his teeth and with Peck's help he started to hobble back to the slope. It was then that they heard the spine-chilling shrill of VC voices floating on the charged air from the direction of the camp.

Peck made a quick evaluation of the situation. There was no way he was gonna get this 220 pound turkey up the slope without drawing attention to themselves. In any case, it would be suicidal to think about going back to the camp now. Still holding on to the stricken sergeant, he did an-about-turn and dragged BA towards the river. They could follow its course for a while and then hopefully find some cover on the lower ground.

BA didn't argue with Peck's change of tactics. Thanks to his recklessness he had put his team in a very risky situation. He was more than aware that Peck had probably used up most of his ammunition on taking out the Sniper, which left only his rifle and a couple of rounds for protection.

As silent fear escalated further in his mind, he realised they were now about to become the hunted.

[_AN: Thanks for reading. Hope to update soon. Reviews from any Big Mean Ugly Mudsuckers, or Face-loving Fans would make my day!_]


	2. Chapter 2: Cat and mouse

**Chapter 2: Cat and mouse**

BA and Peck stumbled onwards towards the river. The staccato chatter of automatic weapons and screams of terror from the camp, rang deafeningly in their ears. As Peck glanced at BA, he could see the haunting look of guilt shining brightly in his eyes. He recognised that look only too well. It said: "_I messed up big time. And now others have paid for my mistake_".

He wanted to reassure the Big Guy that it wasn't his fault. It was easy to drop your guard and mess up in this hostile hellhole. Peck had seen good men fall on his watch and out on the field. Sometimes you saw it coming, but mostly it hit you like a ton of bricks. Any lapse of concentration or hot-headed reaction could cause catastrophic events to unfold.

He grasped BA round the waist with one arm, whilst the Sergeant draped his arm over Peck's shoulder in a vice-like grip. After about ten minutes or so, he became aware that Peck was supporting most of his bulky frame. He was surprised at the strength the young man seemed to possess. He wasn't of a heavily-built disposition, but BA could feel a wall of solid muscle keeping him from falling over.

They were both sweating profusely from the assertion of their laboured trek. But Peck only stopped long enough to pull out his compass from his pack. If there were any VC in the vicinity, he knew it wouldn't be long before they picked up their trail. As the riverbank melted into a series of impassable rocks and boulders, he veered them back into the dense forest.

Now and then he would glance down at the compass. Obviously he must have had some idea of where they were heading. BA had enough savvy to assume that they would head for the nearest village, where they could get help and hopefully transport back to Nha Trang HQ. With this mission now shot to pieces, they needed to regroup. Fortunately, friendly aircraft passed overhead on frequent occasions during the day. They just needed to get out from underneath this green tarpaulin.

Ahead of them was a vast network of narrow footpaths. As they ventured deeper into the forest they became consumed by the twilight of the wilderness. The light and shadows that interplayed around them was like listening to a melodic overture, but without the music.

It wasn't long before they could hear the inconspicuous sound of shuffling up ahead. Not willing to take any chances, Peck and BA immediately left the trail they were following and ducked down into the bushes. The sound of Vietnamese voices and branches grating against cloth uniforms could now distinctively be heard. The crunch of dried leaves underfoot alerted them to the fact that Charlie was in close proximity.

Not daring to move, not even to wipe the dripping sweat from their faces, they waited for what seemed like an eternity, for the intruders to move off. It was only when they heard the chorus of birds chirping noisily above their heads, that they felt safe enough to emerge from the bushes.

This cat and mouse routine became the norm as they zigged-zagged their way through the forest, trying to throw any unfriendlies off their scent. In some places they were forced to drop down on their hands and knees to crawl under and through endless mazes of vines and creepers.

BA felt as if a million, tiny red-hot pin pricks were being stuck into his wounded thigh. He was deathly pale and must have been running on pure adrenaline and a strong will to survive. Blood was seeping through his bandage now at an alarming rate. But he didn't complain. Peck had to admire the fact that the man seemed to have balls of solid steel! He knew they would have to stop soon as it was evident how physically and mentally fatigued they were both becoming.

Finally Peck came to a stand-still, as they suddenly found themselves in a deep depression, surrounded by a cluster of trees. The large leafy foliage immediately closed in around them, giving complete shelter and protection. There was enough room to stand up and the ground was dry enough to lie down on. Peck helped BA sit down.

BA slumped down on the ground as his strength and resolve finally deserted him. He rested his back against the trunk of a large tree and placed his rifle on the ground beside him. He then took several large slugs of water from his canteen, grimacing in pain and discomfort.

Peck was thankful that exhaustion would probably numb most of the Sergeant's pain. He also took a quick sip from his canteen before turning his attention to BA again. He carefully unwrapped the bandage from his leg. BA flinched involuntarily, but somehow managed to keep his groaning to a low murmur.

Having discarded the bandage, Peck removed his first aid kit from the back of his belt and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant, some antiseptic swabs, gauzing and a fresh dressing. He poured some disinfectant on to the wound and cleaned it up at best as he could with the swabs. Quite a bit of dirt and other debris from the forest had got mixed up amongst the blood.

Miraculously, the bullet didn't seem to have hit any major arteries, giving Peck peace of mind that he wasn't about to bleed to death. His mind thought back to a military first aid article he had read regarding the removal of bullets. "_There is no urgent need to remove the projectile. Minimize bleeding and do everything you can to ensure the victim can still breathe. Get to hospital a-sap_".

The sound of BA's gruff voice echoing around the copse, made him jump.

"Don't just leave me hangin' sucker!" he moaned in a bad-tempered voice. "How bad is it?"

Well! thought Peck to himself in a bemused fashion. There certainly wasn't any doubt that his patient could still breathe!

"You've lost a lot of blood but the bullet doesn't seem to have done much damage," he reported, managing to flash an encouraging grin back at BA. "Unfortunately, I don't have the skills or the equipment to remove the bullet, though. I think we'll leave that to the experts. Apart from that, I think you'll live, Sergeant!"

BA heaved a sigh of relief, although he was clearly still in great pain.

"You want something for the pain?" asked Peck.

BA screwed his face up in disgust, but when the Lieutenant handed him a couple of ibuprofen, he was only too glad to accept it.

"What we gonna do now? he asked, gulping the pills down in one go with a swig of water. Peck, who had started to pack off the wound with the gauzing, looked up again, a pensive expression on his face.

"It's gonna be dark soon," he deliberated, as he looked at his watch. "It's a least another half day's walk to the village. I suggest we stay here overnight and get some rest and set off at first light tomorrow."

BA nodded in approval. Peck applied a fresh bandage over the wound and used the last of the water in his canteen to clean himself up. Delving further into his pack, he brought out a tin opener, a couple of cans of c-rations, an apple and some chocolate. Opening up one of the tins he put it on the ground next to BA, together with the apple and chocolate.

"Eat! he ordered. "You need to keep your strength up for tomorrow."

BA tucked in hungrily. Peck opened the other can and downed the contents in a few quick swallows.

"Hey, what's the rush?" questioned BA. "Yuse just said we gonna be here for the night."

Peck was silent as he emptied the contents of his pack onto the ground and sorted through them. As he had not envisaged this impromptu hike into the countryside, most of the necessities he needed were not, unfortunately, at his disposal - including flares or a radio communicator.

He finally picked up a spool of trip wire, a grenade, duct tape, a small torch and the only spare M-16 magazine they had between them. He put them back in his pack, leaving everything else on the ground.

"How much ammunition have you got left in your magazine, Baracus?" he enquired, as he returned his empty canteen to its pouch on his belt.

"I got almost a full round," replied BA, he eyes opening wide in astonishment as he realised the Lieutenant was going out into the forest on his own.

"Good!" concurred Peck. "Now don't go anywhere while I'm gone, will you? That's an order Sergeant!" By the cool and collected tone of his voice, one would have thought he was just popping out to the local supermarket to get a pint of milk!

"Wait a minute man!" exclaimed BA. "You can't go out there on ya own. You'll get ya lily-white ass shot to pieces!"

"No choice," said Peck, decisively. "I've got to secure our perimeter and get some more water. Plus your massive footprints have left behind a trail a blind man could follow! Don't worry, I'll be back before dark."

BA eyed up the Lieutenant with a new-found respect, as he made his final preparations to leave. Despite the fact that his miscalculation had put them in this dire situation, Peck had shown no sign of resentment or anger towards him.

"Hey, Peck!" he said, as a sudden thought struck him. "Why didn't ya leave me back at da river? It would be a helluva lot easier for you to make it on ya own."

Peck flashed him another dazzling smile.

"Rule No 1, Sergeant," he replied. "The A-Team don't ever leave anyone behind. Keep that rifle close."

BA reached for his rifle and placed it over his lap as he watched Peck disappear from view. Left only with his thoughts for company, he realised that his opinion of the conman had changed significantly over the last few hours. There was no doubt that the irritating little jerk had saved his life.

And Jeez, he was young. Probably only a couple of years older than himself. But he appeared to have excellent survival instincts and leadership skills. BA had found himself reassured by the forthright and efficient manner in which he had executed their evasion of the VC. He needed that assurance right now.

Sitting alone in the dimly-lit copse, BA hoped his little brother would be okay.

[_AN: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews. Please keep 'em coming!_]


	3. Chapter 3: Killing without glory

**Chapter 3: Killing without glory**

Peck didn't hang about setting up the defence perimeter. He knew that once the sun disappeared from the sky, the jungle would plunge into a world of complete darkness.

After walking a few paces away from their hiding place, he selected the nearest tree and wrapped the wire around it, at about knee height. He didn't want any small animals scurrying around the ground to trigger the wire.

After securing a tight knot he placed the spool on the ground. He took his knife and gashed out a small nick in the bark of the tree as a marker. He then walked across to the opposite side of the hideout. Taking out the duct tape, he stuck the grenade to the trunk of another random tree, at the same knee-height level. After making sure the grenade was attached securely to the trunk, he again marked the tree with his knife.

Going back to the first tree, he picked up the spool and dragged the wire across to the second tree. He wrapped the wire around the trunk a few times, leaving a good length of it hanging down before cutting it with his knife. He carefully threaded the end through the grenade pin, tying another secure knot. Now, whoever tripped the wire would fall forward at the same time as pulling the pin out of the grenade. This would cause an immediate explosion, giving adequate warning of an imposter alert. Finally, he made sure the grenade was well-hidden by the large leaves.

He then turned his attention to covering up their back trail. He re-traced their steps a few yards down the track, painstakingly getting rid of any obvious signs of their existence. Footprints, flattened grass, broken branches, blood stains on the green foliage – these were all signs that intruders had impregnated the almost virgin-like territory of the forest.

Doubling-back, he then carefully returned to the hideout, again covering up any obvious signs that the trail had been transversed. Luckily, they only had about another 15 minutes of daylight left, so the impending darkness would help cover up anything he may have missed.

Finding water would not be so much of a problem. There were always plenty of streams flowing down from the mountains. He didn't have to walk too far from the hideout before he heard the trickle of water running down over the gravel rocks.

He took a moment to fill his canteen with the clear, cold water. He was aware that Baracus could soon start running a fever if infection from the bullet wound got into his blood-stream. He wanted to make sure they had plenty of water to get them through the night. He thanked God that the Sergeant had been shot at long-range, otherwise he probably would have been a dead man by now.

As he put the canteen into his pouch, he sensed, rather than observed, a slight movement to his right. He knew instantly that someone was standing inches away from him. As he squinted into the fading light, Peck could see a dark pair of eyes glinting back at him in surprise.

Before the NVA soldier had time to react to his presence, the Lieutenant was already lunging towards him with his knife. He didn't want to go shooting off his rifle, in case he got overrun by the soldier's buddies.

The soldier didn't have time to get his rifle into position to shoot at Peck. However, he did manage to defend himself by blocking him with his AK-47, knocking the knife from Peck's hand in the process. Peck instinctively held onto the gun as the two men grappled with each other to gain control of the weapon.

Using the butt of his gun to his advantage, the soldier wacked Peck in the face. Peck heard a sickening thud as the butt made contact with the side of his head, just below his temple. His vision immediately began spinning in about 100 different directions. The soldier followed this up by stabbing the Lieutenant with his bayonet. Peck stumbled backwards as he tried to avoid the blade, lost his footing and fell to the ground. The soldier was now standing over him, with his rifle aimed at his chest. From the steely look in his eye, Peck knew he was going to shoot him at point-blank range.

For a big guy – and despite his leg injury - BA moved out of the shadows with an almost cat-like prowess. Grabbing Charlie from behind, he clamped his large hand over the soldier's mouth and nose, as he in turn dropped his rifle to try and fend off the Sergeant's grip. BA ignored his frantic gurgles, as he thrust his knife expertly downwards through the gap between his collar bone and shoulder blades, severing the subclavian artery. He worked the knife backwards and forwards for further effect, until the soldier's suppressed cries became silent and his body became motionless.

Withdrawing the blade, BA let the soldier go and he slumped to the floor with a thump. BA hobbled over to Peck, extending his other hand out to him and pulled him up in one swift movement. Peck steadied himself as he found his feet, his head still spinning. The front of his jacket was stained with red blood where he had been stabbed with the bayonet.

However, he didn't have time to find out how bad his injury was, as the not-so-distant sound of Vietnamese voices could be heard through the trees. Peck and BA quickly disposed of the soldier's body by dumping him in the bushes. They couldn't risk his body being found so close to their hideout. BA grabbed the AK-47 and slung it over his shoulder. Peck retrieved his knife that had been knocked out of his hand earlier.

Quickly covering their trail, they made their way back to the hide. BA was guiding Peck along, as he clutched his chest with his hand, still feeling dazed after the clout to his head. Carefully stepping over the wire, they crashed through the opening just as the sun dropped like a stone from the sky.

Neither of them moved as they lay on the ground, surrounded by the foreboding blackness. They couldn't see each other, but each could hear the other one breathing with intense trepidation. The rustle of footsteps coming and going out in the forest could be heard and they hoped and prayed they wouldn't discover the dead soldier's body – or their hiding place.

Soon the nocturnal noises of the night animals told them that the forest was once again free of intruders. They could only presume that the patrol had passed through without any drama or suspicion that foul play had taken place. Peck rummaged through his pack and brought out the torch. Switching it on, he flashed it round the copse, until it fell on the sergeant.

"You OK, Baracus!" he grimaced quietly.

"What sort of fool question is that!" snapped back BA. But Peck was surprised to see an element of anxiety reflecting in the Big Guy's eyes. He guessed he must look like shit! He was aware that there was blood running down the side of his face where he had been hit by the rifle and he could already feel a massive bruise swelling up below his temple.

He took of his belt and army jacket and opened up his shirt. On further examination, the bayonet had only just grazed his skin, leaving a deep cut running from his stomach up to his chest. BA was immediately by his side, helping to administer first aid to the wound under the dim light of the torch. Together, they patched him up as best as they could, given their limited resources.

BA finally sat down next to Peck. His leg was throbbing like hell, but it was funny how having someone else to worry about seemed to dull the pain. He quietly washed away the dead soldier's blood from his knife, blocking out the further blood stains that had dripped on to his uniform and down his trousers.

Peck could see BA's hand shaking. He had taken the soldier's life with a professional, killer's instinct. It's what they drummed into you at military school, as they took away all your civilian mentality.

They told you that the Vietnamese weren't human. They were nothing more than animals, who would blow up little babies to kill one GI soldier. You were told to call them gooks or dinks and not to treat them with any type of mercy or compassion.

Even the chaplains had their own take on the Ten Commandments. They would preach "Thou shalt not murder" instead of "Thou shalt not kill". Basically, you had a right to kill, to take and seize territory, if it meant you were defending yourself or your comrades. That way the chaplain could give you his blessing and ease your guilty conscience all at the same time.

Peck wasn't so sure Father O'Malley and the Sisters back at the orphanage would agree with the army's way of thinking. Hell, he knew he didn't agree and from the look on BA's face he knew the Sergeant didn't agree either. They both knew it was murder.

Peck tried to make some conversation with BA, to break the tense atmosphere between them.

"Thanks, Baracus," he said gratefully. "You did a first class job out there."

"You saved my back, I saved yours," grumbled back BA, curtly. "Don't need no thanks."

"You want me to check your dressing?" continued Peck, trying to ignore the hostility in the Sergeant's voice.

BA shook his head, numbly, as he returned his knife to his belt. They sat in silence again, eating chocolate and drinking from their canteens, until Peck finally spoke, more out of frustration than anything else.

"You don't like me, do you, Baracus?"

BA was rather surprised at the hurt tone in the conman's question. It hadn't occurred to him that it would be important for someone like Peck to be accepted as a friend by a black man. Twitching uncomfortably, he answered the question with another question.

"What ya doin' here, Peck?" he asked, his eyes flashing almost accusingly at him. "I mean, a dude like you could get a nice white collar job, sucking up to some high-brow General."

"Because I'm so far up my own lily-white arse, that I can't get down in the dirt like everyone else – right?" retorted Peck, defiantly.

"That's not what I said," corrected BA. "But with your breedin' and background, I'm guessin' ya folks couldda made sure ya had it easy over here."

Peck spluttered as he took a glug of water.

"Guess again, Baracus!" he snarled. "No-one gave me a free ride into this man's army. I earned the right to wear my silver bar. You don't have to like me, or agree with the way I live my life, but you better show me some God-damned respect. Okay?"

"Okay, okay, man!" mused BA, genuinely taken back by the Lieutenant's outburst. He narrowed his dark brown eyes as he looked more closely at Peck. There was something there, something he hadn't seen before. The Lieutenant had lost his confident, charming demeanour. He looked vulnerable – perhaps even a little betrayed. There was bitterness and anger mixed up in his emotions.

Suddenly the penny dropped. In the few weeks that BA had been with the team he had never seen Peck get any letters or parcels from home. He never spoke about his family or even if he had a girlfriend. When mail call came around, that was when Peck would disappear. To the bar. Or to Sin City. Or scamming some fool out of his money in a poker game. Just as long as he didn't have to be near any family stuff.

"Peck …." he started to say, his tone mellow and full of understanding. But before he could go on, the conman interrupted him.

"Save it, Sergeant!" he warned in an ominous voice.

"I was just gonna say," continued BA. "You've earned ma respect, sucker!"

Peck's anger turned to amusement at the Sergeant's words. It may have been a back-handed compliment, but he was happy to take whatever he could get for the moment. Somehow, they had connected. They might never be the best of friends, but there was a mutual respect on both sides.

"We better get some rest," he said shyly, slightly embarrassed at the Sergeant's confession. "I'll take first watch."

"No you won't fool!" retorted BA. "You aint gonna be much use in a firefight with ya head still spinnin' like a top. I'll let ya know if there's any sign of trouble."

Peck grinned back meekly at the Big Guy, but did as he was told. Sprawling out on the ground, he turned to BA before switching off the torch.

"Hey, Baracus?" he asked. "Do you ever obey a direct order?"

BA glared sternly at Peck for a moment before replying.

"Is ya name really Templeton Peck?"

"Touché, Sergeant!" grinned back Peck. "G'night, BA."

BA half snarled, half grinned back at the Lieutenant.

"G'night, littl' brother!"

[_AN: Really appreciate all the reviews, support from faithful followers and interest in this story. If you can spare the time, please do continue to let me know what you think. __I'm gonna wrap this up in the next chapter, so stayed tuned!_]


	4. Chapter 4: Requiem

**Chapter 4: Requiem**

[_AN: Soz, due to its length, I have split this chapter into two final parts._]

After a rather restless night, both men were up and ready to move out at the first light of dawn. They cleaned their wounds and changed their dressings for probably the last time, as Peck's first aid kit was now almost empty.

They knew they had to get to the village within the next few hours, otherwise they would be in very big trouble. Their injuries were already beginning to take a grip on their bodies and both men were on the verge of running a fever.

Peck's bruise had swollen up dramatically overnight and it was possible he had a mild case of concussion, as his vision was still blurred. BA's leg felt heavy as he dragged it behind him, all flexibility now down to a bare minimum. The heat and humidity would only serve to escalate any infection in their wounds, causing more need for concern.

They opened the last two tins of c-rations for breakfast, preferring to save an unopened pack of crackers and the rest of the chocolate for an emergency.

After breakfast, Peck disengaged their trip wire, whilst BA fashioned himself a walking stick. With Peck being injured, he didn't want the Lieutenant to bear the brunt of his injury as well. He broke off a long, thick branch hanging loosely from a nearby tree with ease, almost as if he was just snapping a pencil in half!

They made a brief stop at the stream to refill their canteens. Their eyes strayed for a moment to the bushes where they had dumped the dead soldier. Without saying a word, BA limped over to the bushes and forcefully pulled the maggot-infested body out into the open. As he hobbled back to the Lieutenant, he could see him staring at him with a bewildered expression on his face.

"His family has a right to know what happened to him," mumbled BA, as if by way of explanation.

Peck hid a bemused smile as he watched the Sergeant shuffling ahead with his stick. With Peck still feeling giddy, it was agreed that BA would be point man and the Lieutenant would take up the rear. However, his smile soon disappeared as he realised he was going to have one hell of a job neutralising their back trail! BA was moving with all the subtlety of an elephant! Still, it wasn't his fault and having just established some common ground with the Big Guy, he decided to keep his comments to himself.

The men moved slowly in an easterly direction through the hardwood forest, carefully checking their surroundings and peering cautiously around every bend in the trail. It required a great amount of concentration and stamina to endure the hardship of their trek. Every part of their bodies ached from the physical exertion, whilst their stomachs rumbled hungrily from lack of food. BA's leg was now burning up as if it was on fire. He was still losing blood and exhaustion was beginning to kick in. He had to stop to rest at regular intervals, delaying the progress of their journey even more.

Peck wasn't faring much better. His dizzy spells were becoming more frequent and he could feel the sting of his chest wound throbbing painfully under his dressing. It was now almost midday and the fetid smells of the sun-heated foliage made the act of breathing difficult. BA could hear Peck's breath coming out in almost a guttural rasp, from his position a few paces behind him.

They finally reached the border of the forest. BA stopped and waited for Peck to catch him up. A large expanse of elephant grass stretched before him and just beyond that lay the village.

This was just one of many tribal villages within their operational area, from where the US army were able to recruit manpower. The tribesmen built their longhouses in naturally protected areas of the mountain plains. They were simply-erected structures which could house several families, consisting of a cooking room, an assembly room and a communal bedroom.

But they constantly lived in the shadow of the NVA, who dominated the mountain with heavily-armed soldiers. Before the arrival of the Americans, the local villagers had been able to buy their privacy by paying the NVA with money, livestock and rice. It had allowed them to continue with their peaceful lives of harvesting their crops and tending to their animals.

Peck had now caught BA up. He stood by the Sergeant, cautiously peering out over the field of grass.

"Whaddya think?" asked BA, in a quiet whisper.

"I'm thinking this looks like a perfect place for an ambush," replied Peck, in a hushed, breathless voice.

BA nodded in agreement. Given that it was still late morning, one would have expected the tribesmen to be working the field. They would use the grass to make ropes and baskets. Instead, there was an unusual, sinister silence and a general lack of activity around the place.

However, with both men now running on empty, they knew they had no choice but to cross the field to get to the village. They crept furtively through the long, razor-sharp grass, that towered above them. Thankfully, there were several well-worn paths already etched out, making the field easier to navigate through. They stopped every now and then, watching and listening intently. There still appeared to be no sign of any movement around them. It was as if the jungle itself was watching and waiting for something to happen.

Peck's senses were almost screaming danger signals at him. He knew the enemy were there - somewhere. His heart beat faster with renewed apprehension. He was also aware that being in an up-right position they were moving targets. But he wasn't sure if BA's leg would permit him to crawl along without inflicting a serious amount of pain. It was only when a round of bullets whizzed all around them that the decision was taken out of his hands. Their hearts were in their throats as they both hit the deck.

Suddenly a return of fire exploded out from the edge of the field. Seconds later, two US soldiers appeared, as if by magic. After their initial surprise of coming across the two wounded Green Berries, they hastily pulled Peck and BA to their feet. Under the cover of the M-16 gunfire, they ran like the wind through the grass. The thought of arriving at their destination gave them the boost they needed to spur them on, as they quickened their pace.

Literally running for their lives, they finally reached the edge of the field. The enemy fire had already begun to dissipate as Charlie disappeared back into the long grass. As they collapsed in a heap on the ground, Peck's chest began to feel agonisingly tight and the pain in BA's leg had reached breaking point.

The soldiers who had come to their rescue were from the 1st Battalion Infantry Unit. They had clocked the two mysterious trespassers emerging from the forest and had kept them in their sights. As they escorted Peck and Baracus into the village, their initial instinct that something wasn't right was confirmed, as the stench of death immediately inflamed their nostrils. As they wandered further into the village the extent of the carnage that met them took their breath away.

The tribesmen had not just been murdered. They had not just merely died. They were "scattered" in death. Parts or their bodies were embedded in the creek bank and dispersed everywhere along the sandy ground. The eerie silence did not stop them from hearing the agonising cries of the victims who had brutally suffered at the hands of their executioners.

BA was trembling with rage at the barbarity of the NVA. This massacre wasn't right. It was nothing more than war on civilians and the glorification of madness. It was against everything good that they were fighting for.

He looked angrily at Peck, who had frozen in complete shock and disbelief. Finally, it was all too much for him and he couldn't fight his nausea any more. As the images of the deadly homage overpowered his senses, he promptly bent over where he was standing and spilled his guts. BA held on to him, not able to offer any words of comfort, but just happy to offer his support and solidarity.

An officer from the Infantry Unit told them that they had heard about the execution over the radio and had been ordered to investigate. The atrocities had been carried out by the VC District Chief. He had randomly selected a number of men for execution. There had been no criteria for the selection other than they had just been present in the village.

It was an act of intimidation and terror, meant to serve as an example for others who failed to co-operate with the VC. BA and Peck vowed from that moment that they would do everything in their power to evade being captured and taken prisoner by their enemies. It was, sadly, a promise that would come back to haunt them in later months.

They were taken to one of the longhouses to get some rest and treatment for their wounds from the first aid officer. Being too far out of range to communicate with base, a message was sent from the HT-1 radio to a passing overhead utility aircraft. They in turn would relay the message back to base that a Dustoff was needed to pick up two wounded soldiers from an assigned Landing Zone area.

With an ETA established, it was time to make their way to the LZ. The radio officer was using the handset to transmit a radio beam to guide the medevac chopper to their location. Peck and BA spotted the pilot off in the distance, as he dropped below the tree line before making his final run into the LZ.

As the RO talked him in, BA and Peck fought back the rotor wash of the blades as they were helped on to the Huey. Within seconds the bird shuddered as it lifted straight up out of the LZ. It dropped its nose slightly, swung low out over the forest to pick up ground speed and then disappeared over the horizon.

BA and Peck lay motionless on the cargo floor. As their eyes met, realisation dawned on them that there were no neutrals in this war. It was a shared look that left holes in their hearts and a sadness in their souls that would never heal. It was a look that would only ever be shared and understood by the two of them.

As they both offered up a silent prayer for the dead, they knew they had formed a bond that would tie them together for the rest of their lives.


	5. Chapter 5: Reluctant Brotherhood

**Chapter 5: Reluctant Brotherhood**

[_AN: The prayer appears courtesy of the "Favorite Catholic Prayers" Prayer Book_.]

[_Nha Trang camp_]

After their ordeal in the Central Highlands, Peck and Baracus had spent several days in the hospital recovering from their injuries. Nothing was ever mentioned about their overnight conversation in the forest hideout. But it came as no surprise to BA, when Peck did eventually admit to everyone that he was an orphan.

One month later, BA stood impatiently in the mail queue. He had got there especially early, because he was hoping that as well as his own mail, there would also be a special delivery for Peck. He wanted to get back to their hooch before the Lieutenant – which was his usual practice at mail call – ran out on them.

BA all but grabbed the two packages from the mail officer and rushed back to the hooch. He was relieved to find Peck was still there, preening himself like a majestic peacock in front of his mirror.

"Hey Temp!" growled BA. "You've got mail."

Peck abruptly dropped his mirror and stared in surprise at BA, as did the rest of the team. He held out his hand, hesitantly, as BA shoved the package at him. They both felt slightly uncomfortable under the amused spotlight of their fellow comrades.

Peck began to open the package very slowly and carefully, almost as if he was about to defuse a bomb. With the packaging finally discarded, he was left holding a smallish box. As he opened it, he found there was nothing out of the ordinary in it. Certainly there was nothing that he couldn't have procured by himself. Nevertheless, he stood transfixed to the spot as he glanced over its contents, eyeing them up as if they were priceless jewels.

As well as the usual supply of travel-sized toiletries, there were packets of hot chocolate, breakfast bars, crisps, chocolate and tinned cookies. As he delved further, there was a pack of cigarettes and a few sheets of writing paper.

But there was something else that caught his eye. With trembling fingers, he picked up a small prayer card, which beared a picture of Mary with Jesus, as a young boy. He turned the card over and read the prayer.

_I said a prayer for you today‚ and know God must have heard.  
I felt the answer in my heart‚ although He spoke no words.  
I didn't ask for wealth or fame - I hope you didn't mind.  
I asked Him to send treasures of a far more lasting kind.  
I asked that He'd be near you at the start of each new day.  
To grant your health and blessings and friends to share your way.  
I asked for happiness for you, in all things great and small.  
But it was for His loving care, I prayed for most of all!_

The card was signed Mama B.

The conman was completely lost for words. He stared at BA with a sort of dazed, hypnotic look in his eyes.

"I ain't got much, man," admitted BA. "But what I do have, well, half of it is yours, little brother."

Peck returned BA's humble words with a genuine, 24 carat gold smile. His whole face lit up with a gratitude and unpretentious sincerity that thawed the gruff exterior of the crotchety Sergeant's heart. Despite himself, he gave Peck one of his very rare, ear-to-ear grins.

Peck put the box down on his bunk. He then placed the prayer card carefully in his wallet, in an almost revered manner. Turning back to his precious package, he took out the tin of cookies, a sheet of writing paper and grabbed a pen. Having apparently forgotten all about his evening out, he sat down next to BA on his cot, eager to reply to BA's mama, straightaway. He opened up the tin of cookies and placed it between the two of them.

Neither of them spoke, but then, they didn't need to. There was no need for fancy words as the simple gesture of their actions spoke volumes to each other. It was a reluctant friendship built on misunderstandings and prejudice, but it would be one that they would both cherish forever.

Hannibal Smith looked up from his letter, watching the two men with mild curiosity. He hadn't expected his dubious pairing of the two men to bring them together in such a peculiar way. He was aware that BA still raised his eyebrows every now and then, at the antics of the wayward young lieutenant. But the aggressive, bad-tempered accusations and dark, scowling glares were now replaced with a protective, tolerant respect.

With a satisfied smirk playing on his lips, he thought to himself, _"I just love it when a plan comes together!"_

**Fini**

[_Thanks for taking the time to read and for all the reviews. If you enjoyed it, keep your eyes peeled for one more story in this little BA trilogy called "Mind over Madness" - which will feature Howlin' Mad Murdock._]


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